Leaving The Closet
by Naranja Ninja
Summary: "Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." -Dr. Seuss Marceline and Marshall Lee can't help but love their best friends. But since they're Christian, they know it can never come true. But will religion really stop them from playing for the other team?
1. Leaving The Closet

**I'm not gay, but I think it unfair that people who are have to hide because the world hates them. This song really reaches out to me, and I hope homosexual people get the courage to show their love. I don't own this song or the show.**

**LEAVING THE CLOSET**

"Hey, Bonnibel! Wanna play some kickball?!"

A girl with abnormally pink hair looked up from her book. "Not now, Marci! I have to study for that pop quiz!"

A 10-year old girl picked up a red, rubber ball. Her brown, almost red, eyes gleamed.

"Oh, c'mon, Bonni! All you ever do is study for quizes!"

"Because I want a good future?"

"Because you're so nerdy."

The pink-haired girl, Bonnibel, slammed her book shut. She stood up and began to walk away.

The brown, almost red, eyed girl, Marceline, saw this and ran towards her direction. "Aww, wait up! I didn't mean it!"

Bonnibel wasn't having it. "You never seem to mean it."

Marceline began to get angry. "That's because I don't!"

"Then why do you say it in the first place!" By now, Bonnibel stopped and turned to face Marceline. She placed her hands on her hips and tucked a strand of hair behind her ears.

"I can't say!"

Bonnibel was taken back. "But. . . . we used to tell each other everything. I. . . . I- I."

Marceline looked down, her shoulder length hair covering her eyes. "I can't say."

"Why not?"

"You probably wouldn't like me anymore." Bonnibel reached a hand towards her friend's face. She cupped her cheek.

"We'll always stay friends, you know that."

Marceline grabbed her hand, but didn't move it. "That's what I don't like."

_**When I was in the 3rd grade I thought that I was gay 'cause I could draw, **_  
_**My uncle was and I kept my room straight**_  
_**I told my mom, tears rushing down my face, she's like, **_  
_**"Ben you've loved girls since before pre-K"**_

"MARSHALL LEE!"

Said boy looked at his companion with a smirk. The pink haired boy looked up the prankster, who was hanging upside-down on a tree branch.

"That's my name. What ya' need, Bubba?"

Bubba just got more angry. "Can you stop hitting me with apples, please?"

Marshall just plucked an apple off a tree branch and looked at it. He looked back at his smart friend and tossed the apple onto his head. "Nah. I'm not hungry, and you're an easy target."

Bubba pointed at Marshall. "That doesn't excuse you for pelting me with fruit!"

Marshall jumped off the branch and landed on his feet, as if he'd been doing that his whole life. He still held that apple in his hand. He concentrated on it, throwing it in the air and catching it with one hand. Bubba glared at him.

"Hey, you're kinda cute when you're mad, you know that?" Marshall then walked away casually, tucking his hands inot his pockets. Leaving Bubba dumbstruck.

It would have been no big deal, them being able to tell each other anything, if it wasn't for Bubba being a Christian.

_**Trippin', yeah, I guess she had a point, didn't she?**_  
_**A bunch of stereotypes all in my head**_  
_**I remember doing the math like "Yeah, I'm good a little league"**_  
_**A pre-conceived idea of what it all meant**_  
_**For those who like the same sex had the characteristics**_

"What do you mean? You don't want to be friends anymore?" Tears trickled down Bonnibel's face.

Marceline's eyes widened. "No! No! That's the exact opposite of what I'm saying!"

Bonnibel rubbed her eyes, still not looking at her best friend. "That's what it sounded like."

Marceline didn't know how to handle this situation, but her big mouth decided to open itself. "Maybe I find my best friend cute! Have you ever thought of that?! And it kills me not to say that, since we tell each other everything!"

The moment she said those words, she automatically regretted. She slammed a hand over her mouth and began to run away.

Bonnibel didn't chase after her. She was too shocked. I mean, they were both girls! Unless Marci just meant that in a friendly way.

_But if she did, _Bonnibel thought. _Why'd she have to run off like that. Unless she was serious!_

**Sorry if it was short. I just had this idea in my head after hearing this song, and I didn't give myself enough time to brainstorm to make this a good one. I'm not sure if this is a one-shot, two-shot, or a chapter story, but I'm going to put the whole song in here. This was Same Love by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis, featuring Mary Lambert.**


	2. High School Party

**Okay, one of the (very few) reviews asked f they were going to stay the same age. No, they gradually get older in each chapter. You already know I own nothing, and I have nothing against gays. Hell, half of my friends are gay. Oh, by the way, this is where the boys and the girls meet, hint hint.**

**HIGH SCHOOL PARTY**

"I will grab you by the ankles and drag you down the damn stairs if I have to!"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me!"

Bonnibel couldn't tell if her best friend was bluffing or not. Marceline was never known to bluff. Sighing, she walked downstairs, trying to keep her balance in 5-inch heels.

She reached the bottom step. Marceline smiled.

"Okay, now pose."

Bonnibel rolled her eyes. "Really?"

"C'mon! Don't you wanna turn heads at your first high school party?" Bonnibel remained silent, but Marceline kept on ranting.

"I mean, how is this your first one anyway, even though you're a junior?!"

"Can we just get this over with?!"

Marceline crossed her arms stubbornly. "Where's my pose?"

Bonnibel huffed, but complied anyways. She placed a hand on her hip and tilted her head cutely, while crossing her ankles. She also threw in a smile just for the heck of it. She currently sported a black-and-white tee, pink jeans, a black cardigan, and 5-inch black heels.

Marceline clapped. "I'm pretty good designing outfits, if I say so myself." Bonnibel rolled her eyes at her best friend's gloating.

"Careful, Marci. You keep at it and your head might not fit through that door," Bonnibel teased.

Marceline scoffed. "Oh, hah hah. Very funny. Just check my outfit before we split." Marceline posed, placing a hand behind her head and ruffling her hair, while giving a cute pout.

Marceline rocked a tank-top with a skeleton hiding behind a curtain, white skinny jeans which were ripped and had chains connecting from the pockets, and knee-high Converse which were purple.

"Very emo." Bonnibel commented.

Marceline smirked. "That's what I'm aiming for. Now let's rock and roll." The raven-haired beauty did a short air-guitar solo. Bonnibel just chuckled.

_**The right-wing conservatives think its a decision**_  
_**And you can be cured with some treatment and religion**_  
_**Man-made, rewiring of a pre-disposition. Playing God**_  
_**Ahh nah, here we go**_  
_**America the brave**_

"You didn't have to pick out my outfit."

"If I let you choose, you probably wouldn't be able to stand up with all the chains you'd wear."

"Not true!"

"Dude, just let me check your outfit."

Marshall Lee stuck out his tongue as he stepped out of the hallway. He crossed his arms before Bubba could get a peak at what he was wearing.

"Why are we doing this again?"

Bubba sighed through his nose. "Because we are going to a very important party, so we should look suitable." Marshall Lee merely huffed.

Bubba clapped his hands. "Okay, unfold your arms so I can see my masterpiece!"

Marshall obeyed and stood with both hands behind his neck, as if he were leaning against an invisible wall. He wore a light blue v-neck shirt with a ying-yang symbol, capris with the dark grey belt showing, a light grey jacket, blue low-top Adidas, a black wristband on his left arm and a white one on his right, and a grey beanie to top it off.

Bubba tilted his head. "Umm. . . I'm not sure if this will work."

Marshall went to the nearest mirror. He smirked at his reflection. "Hipster is definitely my style."

Bubba rose his eyebrow, but shrugged it off. "Now check mine." He struck an Elvis pose.

Marshall just snickered. Bubba wore a white collared shirt that reached the end of his elbows, which was under a pink sleeveless argyle sweater with tiny yellow buttons, red jeans held by a hot-pink belt (with a yellow buckle in the middle), and it was all tied together with a pair of yellow Vans.

"You look like a student president. Oh wait, you are." Marshall commented. Bubba rolled his eyes.

"Whatever." Then Bubba got an idea. He jumped on Marshall and put him in a headlock.

He pointed his free hand in the sky, while saying in the best FBI voice he could muster, "Come, Marshall! For tonight, us bros shall pursue the night and indulge in the pleasures this party will provide us! SUIT UP!"

Marshall just rolled his eyes and tried to pry himself from Bubba's headlock.

_**Still fears what we don't know And God loves all his children it's somehow forgotten**_  
_**But we paraphrase a book written thirty-five hundred years ago**_  
_**I don't know**_

Marceline and Bonnibel stepped into the party. They were immediately greeted with a disco-ball shining all the colors of the rainbow, teens either partying on the dance floor or making out in a corner, the smell of alcohol and nachos, and the song _I Gotta Feeling _by Black Eyed Peas playing in the background.

Bonnibel leaned over to Marceline. "Okay, we came. I think it's time to go." She began to make her exit, but Marceline grabbed her arm.

"You are not going to bail on your first party, and you're DEFINITELY not going to bail on me. Now come on." She dragged her complaining comrade to the kitchen, where teens where either trying to score a bed-mate or were half-drunk.

Marceline went to a table and reached for a bottle of whiskey.

Bonnibel widened her eyes. "You're not gonna drink that, are you?!"

"Of course not." Bonnibel visibly relaxed. "You are." That completely changed her attitude.

"Oh no! I'm not gonna get drunk and get raped because of that or die or get kidnapped or-,"

Marceline shoved the whiskey towards her ranting friend. "Just drink it."

Bonnibel hestitantly grabbed the bottle and studied it for a few minutes. She looked back at her emo friend, who just gave her an encouraging nod. Her eyes traveled back to the bottle.

After 5 minutes of just staring at the drink, Marceline grew agitated.

"Oh for the love of-," Marcline snatched the bottle, put half of it in her mouth, and kissed Bonnibel.

Well, she didn't actually KISS her. She just transfered the whiskey into the pink-haired girl's mouth. Bonnibel's eyes widened.

She was about to scold her, when a feeling washed over. Colorful spirals took over her vision as she began to wobble.

Marceline smirked while coming to Bonnibel's aide. "Damn. I only gave you half the bottle, and you're already feeling the effects."

Bonnibel just giggled. "Why is there a blanket on your head?"

"That's my hair."

_**And I can't change**_  
_**Even if I tried**_  
_**Even if I wanted to**_

The two 15 year-olds sauntered into the party. They studied the atmosphere around them, watching as people danced and drank, just being young. Marshall couldn't stand the alcohol scent and did not exactly enjoy the music. He turned around and headed for the door.

"Forget this, I'm out. I'm just gonna watch some porn or something."

Bubba grabbed his arm. "Okay, one, eww. Don't talk about wanking around me. Second, where's your spirit?! This is a party! Not a funeral! Now stop killing my mood and have some fun!" He dragged the protesting teen to the kitchen, barely avoiding all the dancers jumping up and down to the music.

He reached his destination and saw whiskey and booze placed on the table.

He grabbed the booze and handed it to Marshall.

"Drink." Marshall rose an eyebrow.

"Aren't you supposed to be all responsible and junk?" Bubba shrugged.

"Some of us need just a little break every now and then." He thrust the drink at Marshall again. "Now drink."

Marshall snatched the drink and downed it, but not without grumbling, "You better be lucky that booze is my favorite."

Two bottles later, Bubba could barely keep up with Marshall. Marshall Lee was the happy-go-lucky-nothing-can-stop-me drunk. He kept running around, saying random things and confusing people, and repeated the action, with Bubba trying to catch up.

When he finally reached Marshall, he was messing with some girl's abnormally pink hair, while she messed with his black, shoulder-length hair that peeked out of his beanie.

Bubba smirked, but couldn't help but feel jealous. Some other drunk girl was all over his best friend!

He was about to break them up, when a girl with raven-black hair that reached the back of her knees stopped him.

"Let them have their fun," was all she said.

**Okay, I'm not sure if this was good or not. To tell the truth, I'm feeling very self conscious right about now. I do not own that Black Eyed Peas song, thank you very much. So, on a scale of 1 to 10, how horribly did I do?**


End file.
